Do You Feel Like a Failure?

Do you think you are stupid? Dumb? You just feel like a failure and you can’t do anything right?

Perhaps you’ve had a victory over something, but then something else sets you back 3-steps. You mumble a few choice words, throw the hammer, slam a few things and shout, “That figures! Nothing ever works for me.” It seems like no matter what you do, you can’t get out of your own way. Like, it never was funny, but now it really isn’t funny.

Well, maybe you’ve never struggled with that, but I certainly have. For me it seems when I finally have a victory over something, it’s countered with opposition that leaves me feeling like a failure, dumb, stupid, or incapable, to name a few. I finally started asking myself, “Where did you get that idea from, Tammy Sue?” Well, duh! Growing up with an angry father who often yelled is a good start. Dad had major health issues and we struggled financially and mom was emotionally absent.

Okay, so how does that make me feel like a failure. Well, my environment bred uncertainty and fear rather than edifying and encouragement and creativity. Over time I learned that it was better to keep my mouth shut and not ask questions. Although my mother would probably disagree because she says I was born into this world talking. But what’s funny, although not, is in school I always felt very shy, fat, ugly and invisible. 


So back to the failure thing.
My dad did make me feel stupid, basically because he said so in cloaked terms.

Then during my teen years I thought I could find a way into his heart when I asked him to teach me guitar, because he played guitar. Rather then being pleased, he declared he wouldn’t teach me because I stopped playing my grandfather’s violin after fifth grade.


guitar
 Before asking my dad  
 I practiced chords a friend taught me  

The message imparted into my soul said I was inadequate, I had no serious drive to accomplish anything and worst of all I believed Dad was right. I had nothing else to compare it to.

  Grandpa and Dad jamming 1970s  
Wounded Song
 Playing Grandpa’s violin at school  

I had grown up being hit, shoved, smacked, beat with his belt, and received the brunt of his verbal anger as the oldest sibling. That life style comes packed with it’s own daily stress.

Yet, the desire to be loved or at the very least acknowledged and appreciated by my dad created a crazy separation from the abusive strain because I hoped to please him by learning to play his guitar.

As if that wasn’t enough, my last attempt to reach out to him as a young adult was countered with his last words to me, “Have a nice life.” Six silent years later I learned he was on his death bed. While deciding whether or not to visit my abuser, my sister did, via phone. She reported back to me our dad’s final blessing.

He stated, “All three of you kids are stupid and can go to hell. And tell your sister her f’n dog is dead.” Sister, meaning me.

His rejection was the final nail in the coffin of my effort.

Is it any wonder why it’s hard on some days to hold my head high with confidence and be determined to overcome and believe that I can?

Yet if a friend told me they felt this way, I’d try to cheer them up and encourage them that they haven’t failed. It’s just a bad day. It doesn’t define you. It’s part of succeeding. I might even say failing is growth because we learn from these things, it strengthens us and builds character. Look at all the inventors, authors, leaders, who failed before they succeeded. All the successful people in the world (famous and not famous). They didn’t get there without effort, tantrums and tears. Consider all the people in the bible that God used and put into leadership even though they didn’t feel adequate. The list goes on.

So why is it I have a hard time taking my own advice? Why do I think my situation is different? Well, I conclude that that’s the bigger battle to fight. I think that the enemy wants to keep me close to the brink of self-destruction and self-implosion rather than break through that barrier, the finish line, with a successful attitude.  Success meaning holding my head high with confidence that I am important.  Success that comes with perseverance. Success meaning conquering my obstacles, through tears, fears and depression. Success that says I am valuable, have a voice and have something to offer through my story. Success meaning that I believe in my heart that I have been uniquely designed to share my light in the world.

Even though my dad was angry, pulled me down the stairs, then grabbed his trophy, my hair, and dragged me through the living room while I kicked and screamed, I am determined to not let his messages keep me down. In spite of my father’s treatment of me, I want success that says, all the hairs on my head matter so don’t be afraid because I am worth more than sparrows!

There is a lot to be said on how messages we’ve received can make or break our self-image or self-worth. Words that edify (build us up) are far more encouraging than words that tear us down.

But then there is a lot to be said for Victory! I wanted something to make sense of my messy upbringing. Rather than remain depressed and cynical, I was determined to find another way to look at my past. My internal design really wanted to love, not hate. So as I sought restoration, the hunt for blame revealed answers which became salve for my wounds.

This stupid girl, me, who was afraid to raise her hand at school and was told she could go to hell by her father, wrote a book called Wounded Song.


Wounded Song
 August 18, 2017  
 Book Launch  

My absent mother became one of my biggest fans and cheerleader as she helped me with aspects of editing and self-publishing. But more importantly she supported and encouraged me to share my story, knowing it wouldn’t put her in the best light.

In spite of the pain that wanted to leave me angry and mad at my family forever, instead there has been restoration. My siblings and I are now closer to our mother in new ways than ever before because truth was spoken and we have been willing to dig through the pain.


My family and extended family came to my book launch in August of 2017 to support me. Do you know how risky it is to hang your dirty laundry, never mind in front of your family? But there they were with 100 people supporting this stupid little girl from Newtown, Connecticut.

All of my family shared something heartfelt at the event. My mother, well, what she shared was her choice. She chose to share how she had failed at protecting her three children from the monster, our father, her husband. All our jaws dropped. After she finished reading about her failure as a mother, us three siblings came up and had a group hug as we received an unexpected standing ovation. What mom shared was risky business. But what she shared was so honest that after the event, women went up to her and shared what they were experiencing as a mother.

What the enemy meant for harm, the honesty of her failure made room for healing.
 
Wounded Song
 Family at book launch August 2017  

Whether you are dealing with family, work, a friend, a personal project, invention, parenting, relationships, creativity, whatever! If you are in a place right now where failing doesn’t feel good because falling hurts and getting back up makes you feel vulnerable, well then brush off those knees, put a Band-Aide on them, look yourself in the mirror and say, “Here we go again, welcome to the world of success!”

Don’t let the negative self-talk win. Don’t give up!

I am determined to have success that says, if I remain invisible to the world, I don’t care because what matters is that I know I’m not invisible. What matters is that I know I’m valuable. What matters is that my heart is right. That’s when I will have victory over the enemy!

What are you failing at successfully?

 How will you share your unique light?  
Wounded Song
 
Wounded Song by Tammy Sue Willey is available on Amazon
 

4 Replies to “Do You Feel Like a Failure?”

  1. Tammy Sue, you are only invisible in your own mind. The world sees you and loves you, not only for the amazing person you have become, but also for your willingness to expose your deepest yearnings that others may feel free to examine their own inner selves. Examination leads to healing. That's my girl!

  2. Tammy, I mentioned to you at your book launch, or maybe at your picnic, that your book might be hard for me to read. I've read parts of the book and it is a wonderful thing you have done. I think knowing what you have done and all that you have done with such SUCCESS, has given me courage and hope. This weekend my parents were actually making light of the abusive episodes they both participated in, laughing about them, justifying them. Their mindset about how they viewed what they did was sickeningly apparent this weekend. I think I have been living in a bubble of fantasy thinking they had changed. I was devastated by the way I was treated by them in the moment and was physically trembling with rage. I had to leave. I wrote my parents a long letter that confronts a lifetime of abuse. I think I wrote it with guidance from Spirit and I hope for a positive outcome. I can't expect one however.

  3. I got an unconditional apology from both my parents about not only the weekend incident but a lifetime of mistreatment. God is definitely with us. The healing can begin. Kathy s.

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